because parenting isn't perfect

Freaking Out

Me to Brecken: “Why are you freaking out?” (First time I’ve heard this phrase from him before)

Brecken to me: “I’m just freaking out”

Me to Brecken: “Oh, well you don’t have anything to freak out about, now let’s go inside the Y”

What the bloody H does a 3-year-old have to freak out about? I mean other than that he’s lost Percy again for the umpteenth time or the injustice of his bedtime or that we still make him take naps. Perhaps it’s the therapy he’s going to face later in life for having such an non-empathetic mother who ignored his tiny pleas that he was freaking out. Screw the college fund, I better start putting money in the therapy fund. Perhaps he heard it from one of us, not that we’ve been literally freaking out, but we’ve had a lot on our plate between two kids with colds and ear infections, making sure tubes were still in one child’s ears and getting ready for tubes in the other ones ears. There may have been some internal freaking out when they tested Pippa for strange and rare diseases as a result of her refusal to grow, but all came back normal and she’s apparently just stubborn or perhaps she’s freaking out she’ll be a giant someday and trying to stunt her growth by hiding in the microwave, who knows. On the other hand maybe we do freak out, sometimes.